Tormented Minds and Tortured Souls
by octaviaxanadu
Summary: It wasn't supposed to end like this. She could barely manage to think. To breathe. Pain like fiery hot coals danced across her back. The tears had stopped coming a while ago, she was still crying without them. Limbs like lead. Blood pooled around her. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. It wasn't supposed to end like this.
1. Introduction

Steve was old. The revelation was shocking, as it felt as though just yesterday he was 21. He felt ostracised.

They said he had been frozen, for 70 years. He almost couldn't believe it. The world outside the walls he had woken up inside told a different story. They had tried to help him settle back into a flow, doting on his every wish. The more they did it, the more he felt uncomfortable. The knowledge that he was alone in a world he used to know but couldn't recognise weighed heavy on his mind. After the shock wore off, the realisation hit him hard.

He hadn't made it to his date with Peggy. Bucky, Howard, his best friends, the Howling Commandos, were dead. The thought made his hands shake and tears pool into his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to stop it and focus on other things.

The war was over, that's another thing he was told. They said that Germany and the Axis powers had surrendered, that he was a major help in the end. He should feel elated, overjoyed, but all he could feel was the losses the war had caused, waking up at night with terrors that left him drenched with sweat, face wet with tears, throat sore from screaming and a tremor in his arms that took hours to fade.

Steve was tired. War torn. Alone.

He wasn't surprised when doctors told him he had PTSD. Once the grief started passing over, his thoughts kept returning to an unlikely ally he had made during the war. They had been with him on the plane when he fought the Red Skull and crashed into the arctic ocean.

Steve had rushed to Fury after that. In his adrenaline fuelled state, his mind was suddenly alight with the hope that maybe, just maybe… they were alive, that he wasn't alone anymore.

His hopes were crushed when Fury revealed that he was the only body found in the plane wreckage.

Within minutes, Steve had gone from a young man excited to see a friend again back to a weathered soldier who had lost their purpose.

As time flew by, Steve had accepted his fate, but that didn't mean he didn't feel remorse for what could have been.

As he picked up his shield that had been with him through it all by his side for the first time in over 7 decades, he felt nostalgia. It felt the same after all those years, and just like when he first held it he felt empowered. He felt that after all this time, he was, once again, Captain America.

It was like a door had been opened, there he stood, once again ready for the world, even if he still didn't understand it.

****Hello, if you don't know me then hi, I just wanted to say that I have been reviewing my stories and fixing up some errors. So if you've already read these chapters then you don't need to worry about any major changes. With that said, please leave reviews as they really help me and motivate me to keep going and I hope you enjoy my content.:)****


	2. It Must be Something in the Air

The radio crackled to life, "Flight 4531 you are cleared for landing. I repeat, Flight 4531 you are cleared for landing." The helicopter blades were loud and stifled most sounds but the radio in his ear was clear as a radio could be. His hand tightened on the grip above his head as they lowered onto a patch of grass. A man standing on the edge of the surrounding forest was waving the landing lights, the floor beneath his feet stabilised noticeably when they made contact with the ground. Thankfully the noise of the heli-blades started quietening down as well. Taking off his headset, giving it to the pilot and preparing himself did nothing to ease his nerves. It was rather his experience in these situations that helped ease his jittering. His thick shoe soles allowed for a strong barrier against any stones that might've stabbed his feet. He quietly thanked himself from a week earlier, in the store and debating whether he really needed new shoes. Walking along to the car ready to go along a freshly made path, his feet were unburdened by stones and he puffed his chest just slightly. It was the little things.

Rapping his knuckles on the passenger side door to let the driver know that he was there, he opened the door and pulled himself in. The other S.H.I.E.L.D agent exchanged a nod before putting the car in gear and starting to drive along the path. Throughout the drive as he sat relaxed, though even after all his years on the job he still felt awkward sitting and doing nothing, he tried a few times to initiate conversation but the driver remained silent. Inwardly he sighed in relief when they finally arrived upon the mission site. The driver pulled the car to a stop and continued to sit as rigidly as a statue.

Exiting the car and rapping the side as his form of goodbye. He said his thanks and started walking closer to the other horde of agents, some were taking photos, others were going over information with others and off to the side there was an agent talking to a couple of teenage boys. He supposed that they were the ones to call in on the problem. Resuming his walking to the agent that stood out the most to him. His lips turned up slightly when she noticed him walking towards her.

"May." he greeted.

"Coulson." she returned. Turning to him, in the same motion she handed him a clipboard with pieces of paper loaded with information and photos and reports clipped onto it.

Glancing over it and then calling over to the two agents that were standing closest to the site, standing as close to the yellow warning tape as they could without getting reprimanded, "Fitzsimmons, what have you found?"

The couple jumped, not expecting to be called on. Finishing up their conversation they then came close to bumping into a passing agent on their way over before they reached us. Though when they approached they were still rambling about all the data they had found. The boy, Fitz, with a mop of short curly red hair and a prominent Scottish accent was talking at a speed that made what he was talking about almost unintelligible. I say almost because Simmons, a shorter brown haired girl seemed to be able to understand him clearly and was firing back her own theories and arguing about the schematics just as fast. Once they stopped in front of us, they did not, in fact, stop their rambling. May 'cleared her throat,' gaining their attention and getting them to stop successfully.

"Well? What have you got for me?" I said. Unexpectedly, they did not go into a full length essay on their findings and theorised possibilities of what could be found, instead they stood there nervously looking between each other and opening their mouths to start and then just closing them instead. Knowing that this could go on for a while, I held my arm out and Fitz fumbled, nearly dropping the clipboard he was holding before almost shoving the clipboard into my arm. Although trying to go unnoticed, he winced and shuffled back a step, straightening his shirt. The clipboard was filled with drawings, calculations and random chunks of text. I barely glanced over it before deciding to just get Fitzsimmons to explain all the intel to me as I started leading them inside, lifting up the yellow police tape.

The building in question looked semi reminiscent of a mayan pyramid. Covered in moss, grass and small bushes. Stones cracked and falling apart. Despite this the structure was still sound and standing strong. The interior of the entrance was shrouded in darkness, dirt and dust. I was handed a flashlight by someone and I clicked it on as I ducked my head underneath the hanging vines and entered the darkness.

Walls and stone tiles were revealed under the flashlight and despite the dusty air, the walls and floor looked damp. I'll have to clean my shoes after this. I lamented. Fitzsimmons' voices were drifting through the air and echoing around the hidden halls as they told me about what they found around the exterior and their brief view of the interior. The said how they found a large sealed off room and had decided to wait for more backup before entering. This room was the only room that was undocumented. As we headed further inside and down more and more hallways the sound of droplets hitting stone became more prevalent. Fitzsimmons was saying how many of the rooms they found were filled with ancient dialect that had died out centuries ago. They said that after interviewing the natives, some were able to say it was the language of their ancestors but after a large tragedy they stopped teaching it in schooling and it eventually died out. My flashlight landed on some of this dialect they were talking about. It looked like a bunch of confusing lines and squiggles, with many small dashes in pairs appearing frequently. I couldn't make any sense of it.

"Just over here," May called out suddenly, "Here's where the sealed off room is." Fitzsimmons and I approached semi-warily, not sure just what we would find now that we were there and authorised to go in and see what's inside and whether or not it was a threat. When I came upon the doorway, I noticed that the sealed room was no longer sealed. I stopped next to May but Fitzsimmons continued on inside, their eagerness to find out what the room contained far out shadowing any fear they felt. Looking at May I posed a silent question about the doorway. Without needing to say anything she elaborated, "We brought down the deconstruction team not long before you arrived, they opened up the door for us and are waiting on standby in case we need them."

I nodded, "Alright, let's see what's inside." Moving inside and checking the surrounding walls first felt vaguely like an Indiana Jones movie. This certainly was one of the more interesting cases I'd ever been assigned but nothing dangerous had happened yet and it might go down as one of the most run of the mill cases too. There was more dialect on the walls, but I noticed that the walls were bone dry in this room.

"Um, sir?" I heard Fitz's accent from somewhere to my right, closer to the middle of the room. Turning around I looked at him staring ahead of me, his flashlight trained on something. Quickly, I looked in that direction and my flashlight helped expose a large stone statue that stood around seven to eight feet tall. The statue was of a large animal, standing on its back legs reared up to attack with large deadly claws sticking out of its hands (paws?), its mouth wide open with razor teeth - two rows of teeth - and a sweeping tail mid swing; frozen in motion. Every strand of fur was visible and emphasised. I couldn't decide whether this monster was a cat, dog or fox or something else I just wasn't aware of. One thing was for sure, I hadn't seen anything like it. Fitz's flashlight was trained on its face, conveniently placed so that it was glaring at him - obviously the cause of his stress.

"May, call in a team and get this thing up to the lab." I ordered, my flashlight scouring over the statue and drinking in as much as I could. The statue had ripped fabric wrapped around the midsection and waist. Why would a statue of a beast be wearing clothes? Behind me, near the entrance, I could hear May calling in on a walkie talkie, though I didn't pay attention to her words.

An interesting mission indeed.

* * *

After the team arrived we left them to do their job so we could do ours. Not long after I was resigned to all the paperwork involved in every mission. I didn't want to do it, but it was necessary. I told myself that I'd join Fitzsimmons once I was finished with it. It helped only a little bit.

Finally, finished with all the paperwork, I headed down to the forensics department. Upon entering I was witness to the many machines, experiments and samples being tested as well as Fitzsimmons decked out in protective glasses, gloves and lab coats.

"Make sure you don't get those coats dirty, they'll need to be decontaminated and you know that maintenance won't like that." I called out. Simmons turned around almost immediately as she was only reading over the data. Fitz was carefully dropping something into a test tube containing some scraps of stone most likely picked from the statue standing on the table in the centre of the lab.

"Coulson!" Simmons exclaims, "Oh, Fitz, when you're done with that I'll need your data." Fitz made a noise. "Great, okay, so, what we've found is rather strange." she said, now addressing me. Standing next to me she started going in depth about what they had found, including that the statue itself is centuries old. "But get this, the temple we found the statue in is around 6-7 centuries old. However, the statue itself is around 9-10 centuries old. The statue was made a very long time before the temple was made." As I was drinking this in, Fitz had finished his experiment.

"There's more." he said, while quickly jotting down more notes and results on his own clipboard. Turning around he headed toward us, carefully swerving around the very imposing test subject. "The tests conclude that the stone material that the statue is made up of is its own unique type of stone. There's nothing like it in human history." Flashing us the clipboard containing lots of question marks and sections marked with 'unknown substance'.

"So what does this mean, what are you suggesting?" I asked. The statue suddenly seemed a lot more threatening and mysterious.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm saying that this thing was made somewhere that's not from our planet or possibly solar system and that we have no idea why." his tone had become less Scottish with the seriousness of what he was saying. It was a little disconcerting. Almost in unison they looked up at the statue, they were conveniently positioned to be under scrutiny from the eyes of the beast. Coulson had a fleeting thought that if this were a movie, they would all gulp loudly at the same time.

* * *

His team was tasked with handling the statue-thingy. As they were loading it into the carrier truck some of the fur-hair-stuff broke through his heavy duty gloves and stabbed him in the hands. Well enough to draw blood. As a knee-jerk reaction he dropped the top half he was helping hold with his partner, Barry. Barry, however, was unable to hold up the top half on it own and his arms gave out from the sudden added weight. The statue-thingy fell to the ground head first. For a split second they held their breaths. But when the statue didn't break they let the air out.

Barry started having a go at him while the other two who were positioned at the feet of the statue joined in. He explained his hand and they swapped him out to be at the feet. It was a lot easier on his hands. As they finished loading it up and into the lab, he was the last one out as Barry went to tell the director that the thingy was in the lab like he wanted.

Looking at the back of the statue, for a moment he could have sworn that the patch where it hit the ground looked less like stone in that lighting than it did before. He shrugged it off and went to the med bay for his hand.

Eventually he forgot all about it.

* * *

Under the cover of darkness, a statue stood; tall and intimidating. The stone around its neck cracked. A chunk fell off and clattered to the floor, not big enough to make much noise.

A growl quietly drifted through the air.


	3. Captivity

By the time Fitzsimmons had arrived back at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters - forensics division, the entire lab containing the statue and all of its data that hadn't already been sent off to Director Fury had been closed off as well as quarantined which begs the question, what the hell happened? Luckily for them, they happened to be passing by as one of the lead forensics professors in charge of their mission with the unknown statue happened to be passing by. After a mild interrogation Fitzsimmons was able to figure out that the statue turned out to not be a statue at all as it housed a beast - they very same beast the statue depicted, that much was obvious. Apparently some janitors had found the beast as it was wandering the lab and quickly hightailed out to get reinforcements.

After spearheading ideas at each other about what to do next, no less than a moment after the professor left to tend to his duties. No less than another moment later they had agreed to try and find Coulson. Luckily, fate was on their side once again as when they both turned to get going - Coulson stepped in front of them. That task ended as soon as it started.

Clearly startled, Fitz started to throw out the first words that his mind came up with, "Ah, Coulson, we were just-"

Simmons then chose to speak up before Fitz made a fool of himself (as he had done so frequently when not given enough time to speak with an authority figure), "We were just looking for you!"

Coulson glanced between them, analysing their faces before speaking up after a beat of silence on all three parts, "So excited, Fitzsimmons. Is it my birthday?" Fitzsimmons then started stuttering as they realised that they don't actually know his birthday and could very well be his birthday and they wouldn't have known before he stopped their stuttering.

"I'm kidding. It's about the statue, isn't it? Or rather, should I say 'Beast'." A small chorus of 'yup's and 'mhm's then a 'follow me' from Coulson before he lead them off into a monitoring room filled with - you guessed it. Monitors. A large portion of these monitors are showing the camera's inside the lab and Fitzsimmons is suddenly reminded that they are constantly being watched, before remembering that they had signed the contract where it was clearly stated. I guess after a few years you get used to it and forget.

Movement behind the waist-high bench that used to have the statue on it (all that remained was an unholy amount of dust and chunks of rock) draws their attention just in time for the beast to prowl past the bench and come into full view. With the difference of angles, Fitz realised that the Beast easily came up to his chest - this thing was huge and absolutely covered in muscle. He wouldn't touch that thing with a bean pole. He was feeling very uneasy and started shifting on his feet.

"Any second now the extraction team will drop in and administer heavy amounts of sedative and cautionary electro-shocks to subdue the Beast and take it into a containment room where it will be monitored, assessed and studied."

The second Coulson finished explaining the very same extraction team he was speaking of burst into the scene and promptly hailed an assault on the Beast.

As the Beast went down for the count, despite the unease settled over Fitz's shoulders a seed of unrest took root in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"It's filthy."

I looked up from my bundle of paperwork at the bioscientist that had barged in through my office door. "Well, then I'm sure it won't mind if you give it a bath."

She glared at him, her name tag said 'Rosa Malarkey', "It's covered in unknown bacteria that could be extremely harmful to humans."

"I don't see what's stopping you from using the hazmat suits."

Rosa paused for a second before turning around and stomping back out the door. I guess she had nothing else to say. I thought to myself before looking down at the paperwork which suddenly had seemed to double in size. I sighed to myself. Back to work.

* * *

The Beast awoke to chains around its every limb and a liquid pouring over its back. A team of six people in big clunky clothing that covered everything that touched air including the face worked around it; pouring buckets of water and rubbing something on its back. The Beast struggled. Oh, how it struggled and fought. But they'd already done its face. They'd strapped on a contraption that made it impossible to open its mouth. It had to breathe through its nose but every smell assaulted it and made the Beast want to hold its breath instead. Though, breathing was necessary, if you couldn't breathe you couldn't live and if you couldn't live then you couldn't escape. No, it'll keep breathing. Even if it hurts. It was only a matter of time.

The Beast stopped struggling.

* * *

Rosa Malarkey stood next to Director Fury and gave him a spoken version of all the data they had on the Beast. Since the Beast was no longer a statue, most of the data they already had was insufficient.

"-so far there are no matches on species DNA but there is some resemblance to the canidae family though these are unconfirmed and are still being tested. The Beast is female and her coat is not all black like her looks suggest as there are signs of pigmentation only viewable through a black light scattered throughout her fur. The rest of the data is pending." Rosa readjusted the papers on her clipboard after sifting through them to give her reports and looked toward Fury with a 'what do I do now?' look on her face.

Ever mysterious as he is, Fury waited before answering, seemingly pondering his choices of action. "Keep it under surveillance. I want to know any and all updates. We need to find out whether or not this thing is a threat and if we need to be the ones to put it down. Or, turn it over to our side."

Rosa nodded, "Yes, sir."

"I trust you'll keep this conversation to yourself, Agent Malarkey."

Despite her many years with Director Fury, she still couldn't help tensing at his words. "Of course, sir." She walked away.

****A/N: Hello hello, I hope you're enjoying and please leave reviews:)****


	4. It's Always to do with Time

****A/N: Hello! I'm back with more content, I just wanted to remind you guys that reviews are helpful and wanted and that I hope you enjoy :)****

Thoughts are scattered. Half are intelligent, half are nothing more than observations. The Beast knew many things. Many, many things. Where to bite - to kill, to incapacitate - where to scratch and claw, when to wait and bide time.

The Beast knew it had to wait. The waiting game was her specialty, she had far too much experience. Captivity was not anything new but it was just as hated every time. They were so noisy, too noisy. They spoke in weird tongues and nothing they did made sense. The Beast's stomach cramped and she was reminded that it had been far too long since she had eaten. The dryness in her mouth agreed, and yet, she had to wait, wait, wait.

At least there weren't chains.

The room that they had left her in was barren, boring and far too bright for her sensitive eyes. The stuff that they had poured everywhere made her smell foreign and her fur still clung to her skin uncomfortably. No amount of shaking got rid of any of it.

She had to wait, she knew that. Despite this, she was restless. The youngling was waking up and the Beast had to get somewhere safe before she did. The restlessness showed in how she scratched at the walls but it had little effect. There were marks, sure, but not enough to encourage continuing.

The faint noise in the top corner niggled at something in her brain though the Beast pushed it aside and focused on planning. Planning on a way out, an escape and a route back home. Her stomach clenched again and a fleeting thought of when they would finally give her something to eat passed through her mind.

I'll eat when the youngling is safe.

It's a race against time, and oh how time loved to destroy all that she's worked for.

Time is my enemy, but I will wait until the end if I have to.

* * *

Mr Stark, you have an incoming call from Director Fury.

Jarvis informed, after shutting off AC/DC's 'Shoot to Thrill' that was blasting from the several speakers located in many nooks and crannies throughout the Stark Lab.

Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark stood at one of the workbenches that held a mixture of debris, unused parts and old models of the Mark VII Iron Man suit that had ensured his survival in the Battle of New York barely a month beforehand. The world was still abuzz with the knowledge that aliens are real and that they nearly destroyed Earth. Reparations and damage control was still ongoing but New York was a lot better off than when the attack first happened. The rest of the Avengers had slowly started filtering into the newly named 'Avengers Tower,' formerly known as Stark Tower or Stark Industries.

"Let him through." Tony waved his arm in dismissal. Seconds later Fury's large and serious face appeared on one of his holo-monitors somewhere to his right. Tony didn't look up from his rewiring.

"Stark."

"Fury. Care to tell me why you called?"

"I need you to make something for me."

Tony switched tools and started reconnecting some broken wires. "Yeah, and what would it be?"

"I need you to make a device that can access the part of the brain that contains memories and allows them to be seen by other parties."

Tony stilled at his words. "That's very invasive. I doubt anyone would want someone to go through and watch their memories like it's Friday movie night." He shot Fury a pointed look. "Would you mind telling me what for?"

Fury didn't change the face he was making at him. "We have a subject under our care that holds very important information but is unable to disclose it to us."

"Why can't you just ask them?" Tony made a face at a wire that chose to come undone because he stopped and started re-fixing it.

"Well, we could. I sincerely doubt that they would respond since they're not human."

For the second time in five minutes, Tony stilled. This time there was flashes of a wormhole, of large armoured monsters flying through the air and of death and destruction. "Alien?"

"That's what we're trying to find out." For the first time in the call, Fury's voice had softened somewhat and it was more unnerving than comforting.

"...When do you need it?" Tony had already started making plans. He wouldn't let there be another Battle, his nightmares were bad already and if he had a way to find out how to stop something like it from happening again and he failed? Toney knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"As soon as possible. If it is really alien, then there might be something bigger coming our way and I'd much rather be prepared than to have another Loki situation."

Tony nodded without really thinking about it. His hands were tapping at his tablet without pause.

"Get it done, Stark."

AC/DC continued playing back where it left off but Tony was no longer listening. Instead, he swept aside his abandoned Mark VII and got to work.

* * *

All she knew, all she remembered was pain. Pain, pain, pain. It was never ending. It was unavoidable. It was all she could feel. Without any restraints, she wept. She cried. She screamed and she wailed.

Every moment that passed, she became more aware. She didn't want to be aware, she wanted the darkness. The darkness held nothing. The darkness had no pain. She was so tired.

She curled into herself and the awareness started ebbing away.

She kept crying.

* * *

When they had finally tossed a large but fresh carcass into her holding room the Beast feasted without restraint. The clenching in her stomach didn't ease for long after she had stripped the bones of flesh. Even then, she crunched on the bones as a way to pass the time now that she wasn't pacing anymore.

The youngling had fallen back asleep. Time was being merciful. She would have to use this to her advantage. They weren't dumb - her captors. They knew what she eats and the ways to restrain her. To earn their trust she might have to play dumb and bide her time. It's always time. Time. Time. Time.

She snapped a large bone with her jaw and kept crunching. Yes, that may be my way out of here.

The Beast guessed that she'll have to see.


	5. A Troubled Reconnection

****A/N:Heya! So I wanna start off by saying that I know it has been way too long since the lest chapter. But! I have an excuse! In my country, end of year exams are less than 5 weeks away. Which is daunting in itself. Though my stress has been amplified a lot earlier than most sicne I took two art subject this year. Meaning I have two art boards due one week before study period even begins - which is barely over three weeks away. At the time of me writing the previous chapters on all of my stories I was very behind on my workload so I had to take some time off to get my art boards back on track. I am happy to announce that I am up to date! (Which has never happened before!) Also, it's the end of term holiday, which i believe is what the Americans call a semester(?) before my last term (semester?) starts. I have two weeks so I'll try churning out as much as I can before I disappear for another month or so. Sorry for the long Author's note, I just had to get that out there. As a sorry for the A/N and being away for so long I have included a much longer than usual chapter! Enjoy, please leave comments and reviews they help me severely and thank you thank you thank you for nearl 700 reads I never thought I would get this far 3 :)****

Thoughts are scattered. Half are intelligent, half are nothing more than observations. The Beast knew many things. Many, many things. Where to bite - to kill, to incapacitate - where to scratch and claw, when to wait and bide time.

The Beast knew it had to wait. The waiting game was her specialty, she had far too much experience. Captivity was not anything new but it was just as hated every time. They were so noisy, too noisy. They spoke in weird tongues and nothing they did made sense. The Beast's stomach cramped and she was reminded that it had been far too long since she had eaten. The dryness in her mouth agreed, and yet, she had to wait, wait, wait.

At least there weren't chains.

The room that they had left her in was barren, boring and far too bright for her sensitive eyes. The stuff that they had poured everywhere made her smell foreign and her fur still clung to her skin uncomfortably. No amount of shaking got rid of any of it.

She had to wait, she knew that. Despite this, she was restless. The youngling was waking up and the Beast had to get somewhere safe before she did. The restlessness showed in how she scratched at the walls but it had little effect. There were marks, sure, but not enough to encourage continuing.

The faint noise in the top corner niggled at something in her brain though the Beast pushed it aside and focused on planning. Planning on a way out, an escape and a route back home. Her stomach clenched again and a fleeting thought of when they would finally give her something to eat passed through her mind.

I'll eat when the youngling is safe.

It's a race against time, and oh how time loved to destroy all that she's worked for.

Time is my enemy, but I will wait until the end if I have to.

* * *

"Mr Stark, you have an incoming call from Director Fury."

Jarvis informed, after shutting off AC/DC's 'Shoot to Thrill' that was blasting from the several speakers located in many nooks and crannies throughout the Stark Lab.

Anthony Edward "Tony" Stark stood at one of the workbenches that held a mixture of debris, unused parts and old models of the Mark VII Iron Man suit that had ensured his survival in the Battle of New York barely a month beforehand. The world was still abuzz with the knowledge that aliens are real and that they nearly destroyed Earth. Reparations and damage control was still ongoing but New York was a lot better off than when the attack first happened. The rest of the Avengers had slowly started filtering into the newly named 'Avengers Tower,' formerly known as Stark Tower or Stark Industries.

"Let him through." Tony waved his arm in dismissal. Seconds later Fury's large and serious face appeared on one of his holo-monitors somewhere to his right. Tony didn't look up from his rewiring.

"Stark."

"Fury. Care to tell me why you called?"

"I need you to make something for me."

Tony switched tools and started reconnecting some broken wires. "Yeah, and what would it be?"

"I need you to make a device that can access the part of the brain that contains memories and allows them to be seen by other parties."

Tony stilled at his words. "That's very invasive. I doubt anyone would want someone to go through and watch their memories like it's Friday movie night." He shot Fury a pointed look. "Would you mind telling me what for?"

Fury didn't change the face he was making at him. "We have a subject under our care that holds very important information but is unable to disclose it to us."

"Why can't you just ask them?" Tony made a face at a wire that chose to come undone because he stopped and started re-fixing it.

"Well, we could. I sincerely doubt that they would respond since they're not human."

For the second time in five minutes, Tony stilled. This time there was flashes of a wormhole, of large armoured monsters flying through the air and of death and destruction. "Alien?"

"That's what we're trying to find out." For the first time in the call, Fury's voice had softened somewhat and it was more unnerving than comforting.

"...When do you need it?" Tony had already started making plans. He wouldn't let there be another Battle, his nightmares were bad already and if he had a way to find out how to stop something like it from happening again and he failed? Toney knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"As soon as possible. If it is really alien, then there might be something bigger coming our way and I'd much rather be prepared than to have another Loki situation."

Tony nodded without really thinking about it. His hands were tapping at his tablet without pause.

"Get it done, Stark."

AC/DC continued playing back where it left off but Tony was no longer listening. Instead, he swept aside his abandoned Mark VII and got to work.

* * *

All she knew, all she remembered was pain. Pain, pain, pain. It was never ending. It was unavoidable. It was all she could feel. Without any restraints, she wept. She cried. She screamed and she wailed.

Every moment that passed, she became more aware. She didn't want to be aware, she wanted the darkness. The darkness held nothing. The darkness had no pain. She was so tired.

She curled into herself and the awareness started ebbing away.

She kept crying.

* * *

When they had finally tossed a large but fresh carcass into her holding room the Beast feasted without restraint. The clenching in her stomach didn't ease for long after she had stripped the bones of flesh. Even then, she crunched on the bones as a way to pass the time now that she wasn't pacing anymore.

The youngling had fallen back asleep. Time was being merciful. She would have to use this to her advantage. They weren't dumb - her captors. They knew what she eats and the ways to restrain her. To earn their trust she might have to play dumb and bide her time. It's always time. Time. Time. Time.

She snapped a large bone with her jaw and kept crunching. Yes, that may be my way out of here.

The Beast guessed that she'll have to see.

Chapter 4 A Troubled Reconnection

She saw a chance and she took it. Call her ambitious but any chance she got to get out of this hellhole and get back home was a chance nonetheless. The guard who damn near fainted on the spot after the Beast charged at them had barely managed to jump out of the way with a hair's width to spare. The Beast wasted no time in barreling down the hallway and taking every turn she saw; the faster she could find a way out, the faster she could get home and the faster she could shake them off her tail. There were people in the halls screaming and shouting incessantly as she passed by.

The Beast thought nothing of it. That they were only bystanders, when she happened to pass by a tall, buff and blond man accompanied by a smaller brown-haired woman sporting a strange familiar feeling, as if she had seen her before.

* * *

Steve supposed he had a good day. The man at the coffee store: 'Starbucks,' his mind supplied, had remembered his name and had given him a free muffin. The cat lady he passed by on the street while on the way to S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters had gone on about her newest addition, a ginger tabby with black paws that her granddaughter had dubbed the name Chrissy, "...she tried to call her Soot but we already have a cat called Soot so she had to pick something else..." and had shown him a picture. His briefing went well and he had no jokes about being the Star-Spangled Man With a Plan or anyone referring him to an American flag. Furthermore, the mission was a success with minimum to no casualties. Indeed, Steve was having the best day he'd had in a while.

However his good day was heading for the worst the moment a large black behemoth of a beast bolted around the corner in front of himself and Maria Hill and came charging at them. For a moment, everything slowed down. Steve felt his eyes draw towards the Beasts' own. Red met blue and suddenly Steve wasn't at S.H.I.E.L.D anymore; he wasn't in the year 2012; he hadn't been frozen in ice for 70 years and-

Suddenly, Steve was back on the battlefield. Gunfire, grenades and the sounds of screaming pounded against his eardrums. A field of bodies swept his view. A beast of black fur remained the only thing standing on two hind legs. Steve saw no difference in colour from the red of its eyes to the blood drenching its muscular figure. Blood-stained teeth glinted from the light of the fires ablaze around them as Steve felt true fear for the first time.

-he blinked. The world sped up until it was back to normal again. He felt himself jolt to the side, dragging Marie with him. His shoulder twinged as he crashed against a wall. . The Beast flew past them without stopping. Within moments it turned another corner and had gone as fast as it came. Steve stared down the end of the hallway he'd come from. His mind replayed the split second he caught the tail as it disappeared behind the wall.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his arm, "What the hell was that?!" Maria exclaimed from beside him.

Steve hadn't noticed that his breathing had stopped. Before breaking into a sprint after the beast, he turned to address Maria, promptly saying, "Get Fury."

* * *

"Go! Go! Go!" his commander shouted.

Alex and eight other S.H.I.E.L.D agents were running through the halls of one of S.H.I.E.L.D's famous helicarriers. If it were any other time they would be reprimanded and subsequently punished. This time was different, however, because a non-human subject had escaped and was currently running rampant through the corridors. If it weren't for his orders to capture the subject alive, Alex would've expected guns. Instead, they were supplied with taser rods as well as a modified cuffs with a reinforced, highly durable pole to bridge a safe distance between the clamp and the grip. The design would prove useful for restraining and containing the beast without putting participants in mortal danger at a closer range. He knew nothing of what they were supposed to detain, only that it was some kind of animal. Both incredibly hostile and dangerous.

Alex and his squadron turned several corners and passed several fellow agents before they finally caught up to the beast. It had been driven into a corner by the other teams already present. They'd already engaged in combat and detainment before it had a chance to escape again. Alex being at the back of the group constantly meant many things: one, that he usually had to do the least combat and two, that he got a front row seat of what was happening. Usually Alex would enjoy just being able to watch and allow the more experienced agents to take control of whatever situation they were up against seeing as most targets posed little threat in comparison to the number of detainers, usually making for an exciting and fun spectacle But not today, however. For once, he could only watch in horror as his fellow agents and friends were violently thrown around, knocked out, broken and bloodied. They had landed few hits with the tasers. Any limbs captured with the metal claws were immediately broken, rendering the claws utterly useless before the user was thrown against the wall, unable to get back up.

Alex froze.

With hindsight, he'd never say it, but he froze. If he survived this encounter he knew how he'd look back on that moment and hate the fact that all he could do was stand around and watch. He was left as the only man standing, the subject stood on hind legs and took heaving breaths that swayed its whole body. And yet, he couldn't move to safety or to fight.

It stood still. It was the perfect opportunity, but he was frozen; he was stuck doing nothing. He felt confusion and anger towards himself. So, so angry. Until then finally, like a breath of fresh air, he could move again.

He aimed his claw, targeting the subject's face before taking off running. he felt a war cry burst from his throat, what he said he didn't know. It was more noise than anything. The subject turned around and it let out a ghastly roar which resonated with the fear he felt. The jarring hum of static became an almost blinding noise as the claw clamped down on the subject's neck, restraining it long enough to leave it incapacitated and it froze.

For a moment, all he could hear was ringing. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he stopped moving and suddenly became aware of how much he's trembling The subject didn't break free nor did it snap, snarl or lash out with those claws that had cut through steel plating. It did nothing but collapse, ever so slowly, down to its knees.

Alex's hearing eventually cleared and the first thing he heard was his ragged breathing. Looking up at the subject - even on its knees it was bigger than him - he noticed how its blood-red eyes were staring into nothing, its jaw still hanging open as it was mid-scream and its hands - paws? - were still splayed with blood stained claws out in the open. Claws that were covered in his friends' blood.

He was almost shocked back to the present when the subject started twitching, the large muscles contracting and bulging in jittery, convulsive motions. Its eyes rolled back into its head and with it it almost… started….. Shrinking? The hair by its ears turned white while the rest of it almost seemed to dissolve. Something was happening but Alex couldn't find the words to describe just what he was watching. The claw remained secure around its neck.

As the subject started to look almost ... human? ... he was suddenly swarmed with another squadron of agents. Hands took control of the claw machine in his hands while other bodies blocked the view of his friends and before he could see just what the subject was turning into a strong grip came down upon his shoulder, sudden and heavy enough to jolt him out of his trance. He was spun around only to meet the eyes of Captain America himself.

"What did you do?" His face a mirror image of stone with an intensity burning behind his eyes so strong that he felt like cowering under his gaze.

"I-I just-" Shame started bubbling up his throat. Why couldn't he speak?

"What ...," he felt Cap's hand on his shoulder tighten uncomfortably, "...did you do?" He spoke quieter but the words felt more biting, causing him to flinch. He opened his mouth to respond, to get anything out there-

"Hey! Knock it off! You got a problem, you take it up with Director Fury, Old Man." An agent in passing shoved Cap's hand off of him. He remembered him from lunch, Agent Callahan.

Almost instantly his ears tuned them out. He chanced a glance behind him, but the subject was already gone.

What the hell just happened?

* * *

Fury was having a good day. Then the clock hit 4pm and suddenly it was terrible.

The subject-or the Beast, rather-escaped and was then detained by his agents, many of which sustained critical to fatal injuries. At this point, Steve Rogers was standing in front of his desk all in a tizzy over said subject. Why? Because he wanted to know why it was there in the first place.

As usual, Fury coldly responded to Steve's incessant questioning, saying, "I don't see why it's any of your concern." While he retained a calm composure, his annoyance was starting to poke through. He didn't have the time nor energy to deal with this.

"With all due respect, I have every right to know what's going on in case something goes wrong that could potentially require the Avengers to interfere."

Rogers' connection to his military roots really began to show in his formality. Though Fury could still as easily recognize the stress bubbling up in his shoulders, a symptom that hadn't been with Rogers for several weeks. He may not be a people person but he could easily notice how the shadows under his eyes seemed just a bit darker than they were a few hours ago when he last saw him. Roger's fists were clenching and unclenching at his side, his eyes dotting around the room for any sign of relief from his stress and his breathing seemingly a bit forced.

"Something happened, didn't it? Something I should know about." Fury inquired. A minute passed by as Rogers' eyes nervously swayed to the side just slightly for a split second. Fury knew he was right.

"Stop changing the subject." Rogers retorted.

"No, no, if you're gonna ask about my confidential operations then I deserve to know what's gotten you so worked up about it." Fury raised his voice a pitch.

"I said, don't change the subject." Rogers let his words hang heavily in the air.

"Consider it changed, Captain. Tell me, what's gotten you so upset that you'd come barging in here like you own the place while I'm trying to do my job?"

There was a bout of silence. Rogers neither moved nor said anything. Fury's eyes flickered imperceptibly around Steve's figure. More specifically his face as he noticed all his little tells; his eyebrows creased in the middle, his lips tightened into a line, he squinted his eyes just slightly and the muscles in his jaw tightened just noticeably. Fury leaned forward on his desk. If he hadn't he might not have heard what Rogers said next.

"I knew her." So quiet he almost didn't hear it. Rogers wouldn't look up from the ground.

"Would you care to repeat that?" Fury asked him to repeat himself.

"I knew her, Fury."

Director Nicholas J. Fury raised an eyebrow before stating the most obvious question in that moment, "And how would you know 'her'?"

At this, Rogers finally looked up. "I fought with her… in the war."

Suddenly everything got that much more complicated.


End file.
